Wednesday, 26 April 2017

"Creative minds are uneven, and the best of fabrics have their dull spots."

This is a battleground, I'm caught in the crossfire
My words are weaponry and I'm waiting patiently
You win the battle now but I will return the fire
'Cause I'd crawl on broken glass
To be the one who laughs last
Ben picked up the dark yesterday and ran with it. The weather cleared and he brought me down to the beach for a windswept, threatening picnic by the driftwood house. He stood on the rocks at the shore and read aloud from Lovecraft. He did his own annotations.

He read until the wind made it too hard for me to hear him and then we ate. Garlic salami, green olives stuffed with garlic, havarti, tiny rounds of thin toast. Grapes. Chocolate popsicles for dessert. Sparkling water. Then he asked what was for lunch and wrapped me in his hoodie.


He laughed and said Funny, that's what I'm craving. 

But we didn't leave.

We just sat there looking out at the gentle waves, watching the advance of the water until I started to feel sleepy and sunburned.

Better? He asked quietly.

So much better.

Good because you see that cloud? That's the rain coming back. I made a deal with it to hold off for a bit and it's waited as long as it can.